


Omnipresence

by Blownwish



Series: please please please let me get what I want this time [11]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Catholic Guilt, M/M, Pliroy, peripheral jjbella, peripheral otayuri, porn and angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-29
Updated: 2017-07-29
Packaged: 2018-12-08 13:23:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11647443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blownwish/pseuds/Blownwish
Summary: God won't keep him from sinning, God only watches.





	Omnipresence

**Author's Note:**

> Just more of that Catholic porn. You know how I do. 
> 
> Had writer's block until I heard Sour Girl, by Stone Temple Pilots, on my playlist. RIP, Scott Wyland.

He was a mess out there. He could barely make a jump; his legs felt like less and he couldn't focus. All he could see was the threat Otabek gave him with one look, and it lit a fuse. JJ never felt so lost, so crazy-lost. It took everything inside of him to scrape up a smile at the kiss-and-cry.

It was the worst performance of his career.

He couldn't land one jump the next day during practice. He was broken, and the other skaters stared as he picked himself up off the ice like a novice, again and again. He just gave up, got off the rink and went to his mother. “I don't know what to do.” She took him behind the concession stands and rocked him gently as he leaned down and sobbed into her shoulder, like he did when he was little and the other boys made fun of him for taking figure skating lessons instead of playing hockey. “I just don't know what to do.” It didn't matter if she understood why he fell. It didn't matter if she knew what he did to deserve it. It didn't matter because her shushes and the stroke of her hand in the short hairs of his undercut didn't need explanations to work.

“Everything will be okay.” She kissed his cheek and she kept rocking. “No matter what happens, it is okay.” She took off the silver necklace his father had given her at Lourdes, kissed the image of the Blessed Virgin Mother on the medallion and he bent his head, so she could fasten it around his neck. “She's always with you, baby boy. She loves you, no matter what. And I do, too.”

++

It was a weakness. He always loved women and truly loved his Isabella. But something was twisted inside of him and made him think about other things when he touched himself. Terrible, lustful things.

“But that is how sin works,” Father Dubois said during his sermon during JJ’s First Communion. He sat in the pews in his first suit, with other little boys and girls in veils and white dresses, like little brides. Father looked at them over his bifocals from the bronze lectern. The Holy Spirit in the form of a dove was molded into it, bringing the Jesus in the form of Cross to an open book. “It seems natural. You're naturally hungry so you might steal a cookie before dinner. You're naturally inclined to laugh, so you listen to dirty jokes. But what's natural isn't always going to be what's right. The Seven Sacraments were given to us so that we can reconcile ourselves with God. We never know when sin will find us and we are always falling, always failing in his eyes. But God has given us a way back to Him. These are not a burden, like your chores. These are a comfort. God’s way of giving you a hug and telling you it's going to be alright.”

He kept going to Mass, kept going to Confession so he could take Communion, and kept waiting for the feeling that God was hugging him. But all he get was shame when he looked at Jesus, nearly naked and hanging on a Crucifix. Why didn't he think about Jesus’ body when he was all alone, thinking about doing those nasty things to other boys? The only comfort he found in church was the Virgin Mother. Her arms were always outstretched. Her smile was always there.

“When Saint Peter doesn't let someone in through the front door, Mother Mary lets them in through the kitchen.” His mother loved saying that. She had a collection of Madonna statues mounted on their wall in their family home, seventeen in all. “Only God will judge us. Our Mother doesn't judge. She only loves Her children.”

He would ask Her to look away when he closed the door to the bathroom. God would see everything but She was innocent and She didn't see sex. She didn't know he would look at pictures of men doing things to each other and imagine them doing those things with him. She only knew JJ was a boy who felt bad when he came out of the bathroom.

She only knew he felt bad when he came out of that hotel room at Skate Canada.

She didn't know he touched another male behind that door for the very first time. Or that this was a boy who was only fifteen. That he let JJ touch him, put his mouth on him, sodomized him -- but God saw it. He saw everything, even though JJ couldn't bring himself to tell Father Dubois in Confession. God knew what JJ had done to Yuri Plisetsky.

“Please don't tell anyone about this?” JJ begged him. “I've got a girlfriend and if my family knew - “

He just sneered at him. “Like I'd want anyone to know you were anywhere near me.” Yuri grabbed his collar and snarled. “Just suck me off, you idiot. That's all I want from you.” He was just fifteen. He couldn't have known what he was really asking for. He was so angry, so beautifully angry.

He had kissed Isabella on the mouth, but he had never been intimate before. He never felt someone else touch him between the legs, never touched anyone else like that. Never pushed his naked body against another one, or put his mouth on someone like that, never saw another person come. So when Yuri tossed his sweaty head back and forth and sobbed and stared into his eyes and showed him the shocked face he made, JJ never felt so close to another person and he came, too, all over the sheets.

“Your secret is safe, asshole. No one is going to know.” He was wrong. God knew the whole time.

++

Isabella expected something big when they went to Barcelona. He told her to, back in Montreal. It seemed only right; if he couldn't find comfort in Confession then at least he could try to make it right with another Sacrament. So he bought the most expensive ring he could find and kept it in his pocket to remind himself to hold himself together as they boarded the plane together, hand in hand.

She was taking catechism classes and the Montreal archdiocese set her Confirmation date after Easter. It would be a summer wedding if he played his cards right. He just needed God on his side.

But he couldn't pray to God. Not after Skate Canada. Or Rostelecom. Yeah, it happened twice. He had to ask Mary for intercession. He would kneel, he would bow his head, and he would chant countless Hail Marys. She didn't know and She didn't judge. She just loved him.

She didn't know how desperate he was in Moscow, watching Yuri glide across the ice like a dream he couldn't stop having; beautiful and frightening, tempting and challenging with his snarls and angry looks as if he was fighting it, too. JJ slipped up so many times, teasing him, whistling at him, watching him in those tight costumes that molded the tighter body JJ had already tasted. Once wasn't enough. Once made it worse. Once only let him know how much he wanted more of Plisetsky.

This was how sin worked. It started with the best of intentions. JJ cornering Yuri in the locker room to ask him if he was okay, because he was just a kid and JJ was an adult and - God in Heaven please forgive him? - he wanted to make it right. But they'd already gone too far and JJ riled him up too much and everything went wrong because Yuri grabbed his collar again and Yuri pressed his body against his again and Yuri told him to meet him at room 543 at the Hilton Inn.

Pigeons were like doves and the snow was like a veil as JJ walked down the street, and strangers looked away as he pushed through the hotel doors. As he darted through the lobby. As he stood in the elevator. He was breathing heavily when Yuri opened the doo, wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. JJ couldn't take his eyes off of him. Couldn't say anything as he walked in. Couldn't remember what Isabella’s face looked like when Yuri dropped the towel.

“So you won again.”

No, he lost.

He fell to his knees. He bent his head. He took Yuri in the mouth that couldn't take Communion anymore. Felt Yuri’s hands pull his hair. His nails digging into his scalp. Heard his breath hitch with his as he thrusted fast. Thrusted hard. Made him choke, gag, and cry, not just because he knew God was watching, but because it wasn't enough to stop him from doing this.

If God was all powerful, then why didn't He stop JJ from throwing Yuri on the bed? If God was all merciful, then why didn't he give JJ the strength to keep his mouth away from Yuri’s? If God was all loving then why did he make this boy too beautiful not to touch? Too tempting when he twisted and ground against his knee and dared him to use two, three fingers, _hard_ \- and then -

“Fuck me.” JJ’s hands were shaking as he knelt between his legs and pushed. He was trembling when he felt the heat in Yuri's eyes surround him and take him under.

++

Barcelona was a Catholic city. They visited her churches and kissed the feet of Saint Bruno’s statue at La Sagrada Familia, and they watched JJ kneel on the marble floor before the Holy Virgin.

“Will you take Communion this Sunday?” His father put his hand on his shoulder as he knelt. “It will make you feel better. I know how the stress gets.” JJ wasn't sure. All he knew was that he put the wedding ring box in his right pocket and that Yuri Plisetsky was staying at the Princess Hotel. He stared at the Holy Virgin Mother’s face as his father patted his shoulder. “Sacraments are easier on your knees than marble, son.”

They went back to the hotel and JJ wondered what room Yuri was staying in. He wondered if he caught his scent in the escalator - Hugo Boss? - and walked Isabella back to her room, watching for him as he kissed her cheek.

Then he found him. Yuri was in the lobby, surrounded by his fans. Angels, Yuri’s Angels. They were all little girls, hardly out of middle school, and he looked embarrassed, even a little disgusted when they out those kitty ears on his hoodie.

JJ wondered what Yuri would look like wearing those ears, naked and snarling his name, when Yuri called her a bitch. She just clung to him and buried her face in his jacket.

And then he saw a familiar face. “Otabek!”

Later that day, he saw Otabek and Yuri sitting together with the others at that restaurant. JJ’s ring was on her finger and he was bound to win because he was going to make everything right. Except… they were sitting so close, Otabek and Yuri. Were they… were they _friends?_ Otabek glared at JJ.

Then, that night, he checked his Instagram. Oh.

 _Oh_.

++

He had won bronze, but only because the Virgin Mary was around his neck. Only because his Isabella had chanted his name when he was like a bird with a broken wing, during his short program. Only because his mother let him cry. The mercy of women was his only salvation. He kissed his mother's medallion when he gave it back to her after his Exhibition Skate.

His father’s eyebrow went up. “You should get a Crucifix from the basilica before we go home.” Maybe. JJ toyed with the idea of asking for Confession at La Sagrada, too.

He watched Otabek and Yuri whispering together. Yuri was dressed like dangerous sex in a shredded tshirt and tight pants. Otabek wore his leather jacket and Yuri was grabbing the collar, like he'd grabbed JJ’s collar in those hotel rooms. And when he spoke Otabek's face lit up in a way he never saw before.

 _Oh_.

And this was how a fall from Grace taught humility. The lights went down and Yuri's head looked up to Heaven with perfect defiance, then showed the world what JJ already knew: he was temptation incarnate, beautiful and deadly. His gut twisted when his lethal body turned and flew through the air, when Otabek bit off his glove, as Otabek shot a finger gun through Yuri’s heart, and as Yuri collapsed on the ice. He looked up and silently begged God to forgive him for all he had done and for all he had failed to do. He had no way of knowing if He did. But he did know he would never sin this way, again. Not because he didn't want to, but because Otabek searched the audience when the show was over and gave JJ the same fire when he caught him looking at them. JJ was so, so pitiful.

God did see him later that night, in his hotel shower, alone, touching himself. God didn't stop him, God didn't offer him comfort. He never did. God just watched.


End file.
